Fire and Fury
by Zergface
Summary: It was never going to be a peaceful introduction, not with so much at stake. Arriving on a war-torn Earth, it's once again down to the knife-edge to halt the countdown to Gamindustri's encroaching fate- Fire and Fury.


" **They [The DPRK] will be met with fire, fury and frankly power the likes of which this world has never seen before."**

 **-Donald Trump**

* * *

 **9/31/2017 8:30:32 AM - New contact! Designated VAMPIRE #63**

 **9/31/2017 8:30:34 AM - New contact! Designated VAMPIRE #64**

 **9/31/2017 8:30:36 AM - New contact! Designated VAMPIRE #65**

The man in tigerstripe camouflage sat at his station as a statue, his bloodshot pupils reflecting an emotionless monitor listing one missile launch after another.

 _This… this was it, wasn't it?_

It was almost as if everything, the frantic sounds of shuffling feet across the brightly lit command room's floor, urgent radio communications being called out in quick succession, his cold fingers, all meshed together in the worst way possible but, somehow, was subtly ignored.

He sat in silence, eyes fixated on the screen. He saw the symbols. Red chevrons with a dot in the center. He knew what they meant. He knew that they meant nothing but malicious intent.

This couldn't possibly be a missile test- not with so many going off at once.

Two men in tigerstripe camouflage stormed behind him, across the narrow row of computers and out of sight. That tore him out of his introspection, back to reality.

Within mere seconds, dozens more missiles were launched from the northern end of the DMZ, their trajectories too early to be calculated.

That was all that was needed to pull the Missile Defense Agency's hair-trigger.

Without a second to spare, the THAAD missile defense system opened fire to intercept, each surface-to-air missile's icon flashing onto his screen in blue.

Numbers on his screen listed technical information about each missile: true airspeed, airspeed in knots, the direction, altitude, and velocity. All those values came together to tell him the probable courses for each one, but even if you didn't have that information, it would be child's play to guess a target.

Tokyo, Kyoto, Nagoya Japan, among many.

Kadena Okinawa, Guam, Oahu Hawaii.

Anchorage, San Francisco, Vancouver, Seattle.

And those are only the targets of the missiles launched first.

Did Kim go insane? Where did he get the capacity to strike so far and with so many missiles? Where did this boldness come from?

There's no way this just happened overnight. There had to be something bigger, something giving the Kim regime the boost they needed. Was China supplying missiles? Did Russia slip Kim something under our noses? Both of those theories were unlikely, and even if the DPRK was given external support, nothing make any sense…

But everything had to wait. All options were on the table, and now all options had to be put into action.

Kim was not going to wait another second for anyone to act. Already artillery guns in the north let loose with their cannons, delivering shell after shell onto military, and by extension, civilian points of interest in the capital city and beyond.

Within minutes, jet planes were roaring off runways, ground forces on both sides stationed on the DMZ were kicked into gear. A mass evacuation was ordered for the people of Seoul, and the government of South Korea began to evacuate the countryside in preparation for the worst. Hundreds upon thousands of people were forced to flee their homes and leave behind their belongings on the long road to Busan with little to no warning.

In Japan the J-Alert warnings for missile strikes sounded off, and ordinary people rushed to their protective areas designated by their schools or by their families. The people who heard the news first rushed to tell others of the urgency to save their own lives.

Across the world, people had yet to hear of the flames of the Second Korean War. But for the people of East Asia, their nightmare had just begun.

* * *

 **Several days ago, somewhere in Pyongyang…**

"To think I trusted you… this is it old lady!" A short, grey mouse-person squealed in anger as he paced in circles around a couch. On that couch sat his boss, Arfoire. Neither of them were having a good time, being trapped in a mysterious building and all. "Once we get back I quit, chuu!"

"You said that last time!" Arfoire snapped. "Now hush, I'm thinking."

"Yeah, oh yeah," Warechu groaned, raising his arms in the air. "It's not like you should've thought about this _before_ we left."

"Shut it you damn rat! I was in a rush, and you know it. Those infernal CPUs would've ruined everything if we waited a second longer."

Arfoire sighed, propping her chin on her hand.

Things didn't go as planned, but she would still have to carry things out or else all her dreams, no, ASIC's dreams would go up in flames.

Things could not have gone worse. All the CFWs was supposed to meet up at the same location in the same dimension that Arfoire found herself in. It seems like Arfoire had screwed up the process, and now both her and Warechu got stuck in the middle of some bland living room in the middle of an empty city.

Warechu stopped pacing and trotted over to an open window, hoping to clear his head. He hopped atop the windowsill and looked out, only to find boring buildings and streets inhabited by the occasional, bland passerby.

"Do you even know how we got in here?" Warechu asked with a huff.

Arfoire sighed. "We got to the right coordinates, but I think we were too early. Next thing I know there's screaming in some archaic tongue and I'm knocked out." The Deity of Sin arched her head around, looking at her mouse companion. "What about you?"

"I just woke up in here." Warechu frowned, crossing his stubby paws. "For the record, you were supposed to handle this, not me, chuu."

"That doesn't matter. From here we need to continue as planned."

"And that's the thing. You didn't tell me the plan!" Warechu threw his arms into the air out of desperation. "Your excuse was something about confidentiality, but both you and I know that's bullshit. Now that we're here, you oughta spill the beans!"

"Reasonable enough." Arfoire closed her eyes and crossed her arms, thinking deeply as she tilted her head towards the bland ceiling. "You already know that things weren't going well for us back in Gamindustri."

"Well duh! It never is."

"Shut up!" Arfoire's fists tightened together, then she took a deep breath. "As I was saying… we came here to gain allies... and a little more." She smiled at the thought. "You don't need to know the rest."

Warechu leaped down from the windowsill and stuck an causing finger out at his boss. "Like hell I don't! You bring me out here and expect me not to ask questions? I'm stuck here, same with you, and I want to know where I am, what I'm doing and-"

The door to the room was thrust open, cutting the mouse off. Five men entered the room wearing military regalia and wielding some sort of rifle that both of the Gamindustrians couldn't identify, and spread out around the perimeter of the room.

As Arfoire and Warechu assumed a defensive stance beside the couch, one last man stepped through the door. This larger person was wearing a black suit and had neatly combed hair atop his cushy face. He was the definition of confident, striding before the two without a hint of hesitation.

"당신은 우리의 새로운 손님입니다! 너는 누구야, 나는 알고 싶다." He said proudly, waving a hand in the air. He appeared to be very bold, almost as though he saw himself to be more important than he let off.

The two criminals shot each other confused looks. What was he even saying?

"The dear leader wishes," One of the men with rifles started, lowering both his eyebrows and his weapon. "He wishes to know if you are a friend or an enemy to the great Korean people."

A pause. Warechu looked expectantly at his leader, who just smiled and smiled without a single hint of fear.

"That's easy." The Deity of Sin let down her guard, smirking. "As we discussed previously, we are your new allies. I expect us all to get along wondrously."

* * *

 **Still several days ago, somewhere in the outskirts of Lastation…**

"Oh man, oh man!" A grey-hooded girl with shaggy green hair darted up and down the derelict warehouse floor, eyes wide in fear. "They left _without me_?!"

She paced around the room, gripping the tips of her hair tightly. "Oh man, oh man!"

The CPUs were just minutes away, that she knew, and when they arrived at their secret base she would be _screwed_! She couldn't run away because of the cops, she couldn't fight because she was just a puny underling, but there had to be a way out! There was always a way out! _Just think, Linda, think!_

Wait… what if she got rid of the evidence?

 _Yeah_ , she thought to herself. _If there's nothing left to use to blame me, what can they do? Nothing, right? Right?_

Deep down she knew it wasn't going to work, but she would go crazy if there wasn't even the slightest hope of an escape from this dire situation.

In the center of the main room was the teleporter. If she could throw all the plans and tools onto the teleporter and blow it up, well, there wouldn't be anything left! Probably. But she might be saved!

Linda scurried around the room like a mouse, hands gripping the bottom of dusty boxes and the sides of strange contraptions, computers and the edges of tables, throwing everything that she could into the center.

She knew that not everything was going to make it, but the underling was fighting for every second she had.

With just about every loose item now atop the teleporter, save some furniture, crates and vehicles, Linda frantically grabbed a massive bundle of dynamite from the armory and rushed back to the teleporter. You know, the type that villains typically have on hand at all times. And as according to the stereotype, it was also a time-based bomb.

Linda twisted the dial to one minute and hurled the red bundle atop the giant heap of expensive equipment, papers and electronics.

"Sayonara, prison!" Linda chanted with adrenaline surging through her veins.

But just as she was starting to run from the huge mess of equipment, the main door to the warehouse burst open.

Bits of wood, metal and door were flung across the floor in the most inconsiderate manner, and the four Goddesses of Gamindustri stormed in through the dust.

Expecting a fight, each CPU was in their HDD form and had their weapons drawn. With no other target immediately in their sights, Blanc, Noire, Vert and Neptune all trained their lethal instruments on Linda, who squealed at the terrifying sight.

"Hold it right there!" Lady Black Heart, also known as Noire to the people close to her, shouted her order with determination. "Lay down your arms and surrender now, lest we fight to your death!"

"Whaa!" Linda cried, trading glances with the CPUs and the rapidly ticking time bomb. "Listen missies I gotta scram!"

Linda darted for a back exit, feet kicking against the ground as fast as her legs could push them. The floor squeaked beneath her feet, but almost immediately those squeaks were met by the crack of White Heart throwing herself into the air, landing right in front of the underling with a crash.

"Don't make another move or you're dead, bitch!" Blanc shouted with her hammer extended. Linda froze in her step, leading her to trip on the floorboards. The ASIC underling fell to her chest, and with unsteady eyes she looked up at her captor.

"Hehe… sorry?" She muttered an insincere apology, then looked back at the bomb. Detonation was seconds away, and Linda gulped.

"What's that..." Purple Heart's own gaze was drawn to Linda's object of interest, and that's when she spotted the bright red explosive. "A bomb!?"

The last few seconds were ticking down, illuminated by bright red numbers on the display.

"I got it!" Green Heart drew her spear, stretching her armed hand back behind her head and ready to toss it like an olympic javelin. With a shallow grunt, the spear was thrust from her arm and flew straight for the bomb. Like a dart it impacted it's target, shattering it into bits and pieces.

Satisfied, Green Heart hovered over to her weapon to retrieve it.

"Good shot, Vert." Neptune complemented, joining Vert and Noire at the pile of stuff. They approached the enemy, and Noire looked with an eye of suspicion at the already odd pile of things. And when they finally got close, the Goddesses were both stunned and confused to see its mish-mashed contents. A curious arm was extended from Noire, retrieving a report on a place called Kagoshima. Strange.

"No need to thank me, Neptune." Vert replied, pulling out her spear.

"Yeah," Blanc interjected, tightening her grip on her hammer. "And no need to show off. So shut it."

"Very well." Vert smirked triumphantly, crossing her arms under her boobs to tease Blanc, who merely growled.

With the crisis at hand now easily resolved, all eyes were drawn onto the ASIC member, who grinned nervously.

"I knew that there was something going on here, but I didn't expect it to be as extravagant as this." Noire stated, eyes glued to the underling's own.

"What's all this about? Where are the others?" Purple Heart interrogated, standing beside the fallen girl.

"Uhh…" Linda's eyes darted from one CPU to the other, the fear for her life dancing in her eyes. "This is our big machine of winning," All the CPUs frowned. "And everyone left."

"They left." Blanc deadpanned. "With the place surrounded and under intense surveillance. Yeah, miss me with that bullshit."

"Did they happen to use this… big machine of winning?" Green Heart asked.

"M- maybe." Linda squeaked.

"Okay. They're gone. We need to get out of here and find out where they disappeared to once more. We all know that they've got something big planned and we cannot afford to sit around talking to lowlifes." Noire suggested, stepping back and towards the door.

Neptune shook her head in disagreement. "I have a funny feeling that this 'Lowlife' knows more than she's letting on." She strode over to the uncovered control panel of the machine. "What does this machine do?"

"I'm not telling you!" Linda shouted in protest, getting angry. "Never!"

"That's okay." Neptune replied calmly. She smiled at the letters atop the machine. "We can work this teleporter without you."

"What! Noooo!" Linda screamed, shuffling to her feet, only to find herself being restrained by the Goddess of Lowee.

"I'm taking this crazy pipsqueak out to the police. When I get back I expect you all to be done with this thing." Blanc grumbled, hoisting Linda high above her head as if she weighed nothing at all.

"Let me go! Hey! Let me go!" Linda struggled in vain as her voice faded out the door, and the the other three Goddesses could focus on the machine.

"Hmm…" Purple Heart studied the screen with a gentle finger under her chin. "It says here that the last destination was a whole different dimension."

"So that's where we're heading next." Black Heart said, hands on her hips.

"It seems so." The Goddess of Planeptune replied solemnly. "What do you think that they are trying to accomplish? This equipment isn't built overnight." A pause. "They were planning for a long time, it seems."

"There's no way for us to tell for sure, at least not without sifting through all these documents for ages. And we don't have the time." Green Heart nodded with a frown.

"I'll get Nepgear to come here and find what could be useful. If things go south, Histoire will be there to pull us out. But for now," Neptune informed, stepping back from the console. "We need to get going.

"Let's first start with clearing this stuff off." Noire suggested.

The Goddesses all silently agreed, knowing that unfortunately, it was time to get to work once again.

* * *

 **9/31/2017 8:12:43 AM**

 **9/31/2017 8:12:44 AM**

 **9/31/2017 8:12:45 AM**

Gentle trees swayed in the wind surrounding Forward Operating Base Juhwangsaeg, located just south of the Korean city of Cheorwon. It was a decently small outpost, isolated and quaint, but the people who inhabited the base liked it that way. To the officers, it could be seen as a vacation in Korea. The soldiers and workers who found Juhwangsaeg their home told me that it was an easy assignment.

Not nearly as loud as the airbases, that was for sure, and not as strict or alert as a station on the DMZ.

Located in the thick of the mountains, I had to be flown in by helicopter. At the time I was pretty annoyed, it being so early in the morning and all, but the biggest thorn in my side was the fact that I wasn't being flown in with my new unit, the 99th Cavalry Scouts Platoon.

Just a week ago this place was set up and run by those ROK guys, but apparently they got so fed up on Kpop or something that they decided to fork over the custody of the place to us. I'd love to complain, but that's not something that I'm able to do. If I were the one calling the shots, I'd probably tell the guy making that decision to shove that stick back up his ass, then get ready to be shipped to Afghanistan or some other sandland deathtrap. On a more serious note, why build the base if you're not going to use it?

But I'm not the guy calling the shots. I'm just some dude in a Blackhawk, soaring over the luscious forests of Korea. Jeez, this place is hella beautiful. Like I'm not a nature fanatic or anything, but just seeing all those hills breeze by looks amazing from up high. There's a few roads down there as well, weaving along steep inclines and through patches of low brush like an intricately sewn hem in a leafy-green quilt. Almost looks like a pillow in some places. Reminds me of the Green Mountains back home in Vermont.

The thought runs a streak of homesickness down my throat, and my limbs feel tingly. My mind is fixated on home, and it almost feels like the pushing and pulling of the helicopter's fluid movements is gliding me back home.

My first deployment.

I reach my arm over to my chest and wiggle my gloved fingers around the rim of my wallet before pulling it out. It's a black leather wallet given to me by my nephew on my 25th birthday. It feels so long ago, but at the same time I can remember it like it was yesterday.

At the time I was called Uncle Lewie, a spin on my real name, Lewis Roth. That day, I was so happy to be called Uncle Lewie and not Specialist Lewis Roth. My mother and father were there, along with some extended family and a few close friends. Not a big party, just something to say that they miss me for being away for so long. It felt _amazing_ to be there with them again.

I could go on forever about that feeling.

My hands fumble to open up my wallet, almost dropping it due to its glossy texture, and I peer into its contents with a reminiscing eye.

Kinda cliche, having photos of loved ones in your wallet. But I did it, and most everyone does it. My best buddy back in basic training, after getting a love letter in the mail, tucked the torn-out-signature of his girlfriend into his headgear whenever he got the chance. I called him out on it time after time, but he always shrugged me off and said it was for luck. Gave him a reason not to give up, although I bet it got sweaty and ruined pretty quickly. He was a good guy, but I was aiming for the Cavalry Scouts and he was after dentistry. I lost track of him soon after basic. That was one of my biggest regrets, losing track of him.

I tucked my wallet back into my vest and looked outside. Out the window I could see the trees flying by, and even further than that was the sun, the tip of that familiar yellow sphere thrusting it's rays out into the clouds and across the tips of the Asian wilderness.

I was an interloper here, an invasive species, a foreigner, and this world knew it.

From that point on the trip was a blur. One second there was a pond, the next there was a highway. Some buildings, a street. I might've been on a train ride, or in the back seat of a car. I could see, watch, but not touch as life passed me by. A big screen television, a portal to an alien world. That was the window of the blackhawk.

I had no impact.

We touched down in an instant, the blades of the helicopter chopping up dust from the landing pad itched in dirt. The wind buffeted trees and plants, spiders, mosquitos and people scurrying to shield themselves from the rotor's relentless beating.

It was 8:25 in the morning.

As soon as I stepped out, rifle in hand, helmet on head, duffle bag over the shoulder, I was already yearning for my bed. Wherever that was going to be tonight.

The helicopter's rotor sped up, and I squinted to be able to see in the harrowing wind and dust storm. Stepping further away, the helicopter took off, returning to base. I looked at it's black figure contrasting against the blue sky, and I couldn't help but listen closely to the slowly fading beat of the machine.

"Ey, what the hell you looking at the sky for?" A man in multicam walked up to me with a quick stride. He had extremely short brown hair, like he had recently gotten a haircut. Had he gotten a haircut? So far out here?

"Hey, lookie here," He said again, stopping at my feet. "You in there? Specialist…" He looked at my name tag. "Roth." He looked into my eyes with his, although I couldn't get much out of him due to his sunglasses.

Big, square sunglasses. Not beach sunglasses, but ones reinforced for intense wear. I was never a fan.

"Sorry, I was out of it for a second." I responded, gripping the strap of my bag.

"Happens to everyone." He eyed me over one more time. "You're the new guy? Throw your stuff down in your cot, we're gearing up for some stupid familiarization trip to the DMZ." He furrowed his eyebrows. "That's because of you, Roth."

What's up with him?

"Yeah, I'll toss this down." I stated as I made my way into the building closest to us.

There are three main structures here, one of them being the barracks. Not a big building, just small enough for two teams of seven to call their home. The walls are painted a fresh white, and they are propped up on what is essentially a wooden foundation because of rainfall and how nasty it can get on the side of a mountain.

"You don't have to tell me, just get it done." He instructed, walking in front of me. "Hey, I can tell you didn't get the memo. Let me tell you a little something about the 99th."

As we walked, he talked. Stuff about how things work around here, how we are here to be the first responders to any sort of carnage thrown our way. Apparently we're neither disposable or replaceable, so we're not allowed to go off base during the week nor without a pass. Locals get freaked out at the green men or something.

There's twelve soldiers on the base, including me. We're divided into two squads, Alpha and Bravo, and I happen to be stuck in Bravo alongside my guide.

By the way, his name is supposed to Peter Chavez, but I genuinely can't tell if that's a nickname or not. At least, not with his top-down demeanor he's got going on.

"You're real cheery, you know that?" I blurted, my lips twisting to the side.

"Yeah." He said emotionlessly, agreeing with my sarcasm. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. Are the others inside?"

"No, some are already gearing up. I think Marcus King, our First Sergeant, is talking to some Korean guy in the command room. He's a real pissy fellow, more so than me. You'll grow to love him."

We reached the doorway to the barracks, and we both stood in front of the door.

"Roth," He spoke up before I could enter. "I…" He paused, looking at me like he was debating weather to tell me something or not. "Nothing."

I shrugged him off. He really does seems like a nice guy, however cynical.

Apparently it wasn't nothing, because he start talking again. "I'll get to you later. And hey," He looked me right in the eye. "The others won't give you a good time. Just bear with them until you get a hang of everything. Or don't. It's your first day, just get settled in."

I nodded, replying with a silent word of thanks as I entered the building.

The place is pretty cramped, but I found my room in a matter of seconds. The whole building is colored white with nothing standing out anywhere at all. Except for the corkboard in the hall, that is.

My room was as plain as the rest of the building, save for a desk, a dresser and a plastic chair. I'm so glad I got my own room- I know that tons of other guys aren't nearly as lucky.

I threw my duffel bag down on my bed, which was looked like a green slab of cardboard thrown onto what the designers wanted to be a bedframe. It's not even close to what they intended it to be. At all. This is coming from a guy who'd recently slept in a real bed, so I think I know what I'm talking about.

But I've slept in worse, such as in the dirt with my helmet as my pillow and rifle as my teddy bear, so this might as well be a luxury.

Yeah. I have nothing left to unpack.

So uh… there. All settled in.

I guess.

Maybe I should get ready for that familiarization run we're going on. But then again, I'm already all geared up.

Maybe I'll-

The ground shook, intense vibrations searing through the ground like the beat of a drum. Almost immediately, an alarm siren flooded the barracks, startling me to my senses. I can't believe I almost let myself doze off there… but more importantly, what the hell is going on? Is this a drill? This better be a fucking drill. There's no way that I'm seeing combat on my first day of work.

After a deep breath filled my lungs with malice, I darted outside to find the whole platoon, armed and rearing to go, gathering in the dirt, which continued to shake. The alarms kept blaring their awful tune, and I fell into the rear of the disorganized mess.

The man in the front was signaling something aggressive with his hands, waving this way and that. I could see him speaking, but I couldn't hear him clearly over the alarm.

"-off the damn alarm! Thank you."

That must be First Sergeant King. He's a pretty gruff, buff guy. Not someone I'm taking for a good golf player.

"Men of the 99th," He started, taking off his helmet and tucking it under the crook of his arm. "Helicopters October one and November one are coming to pick us up for a preemptive strike on the North, who have just now begun the opening stages of an offensive, as you can probably tell by the artillery."

I looked around me, and the faces in the shallow crowd were all mixed. Some people were obviously disgusted, some were scared. Some people looked stolid, their fists clenched around their weapon and others were angry. I myself felt awe. Here I was, on my first real day of work. History was already in the making.

"South Korean Armor brigades north of Seoul have already struck Kaesong. It really seemed like Kim was expecting us to roll over like last time, but unfortunately for him, he's got another thing coming." First Sergeant King stared into my eyes. "Us."

"Our current objective is to keep the evacuation of Cheorwon moving smoothly. I'll be dropping new FRAGOs as the situation changes, and I'll have a more developed briefing in the air.."

"Any questions?" King concluded, slipping his helmet back on. "No? Good. Choppers are just minutes away."

When the land quieted down and the men resorted to hushed whispers, I listened.

In the distance I could hear the helicopters coming in for a landing, that familiar thumping of their rotors giving me the comfort in familiarity, but brought my heart to pulsate with adrenaline. I've felt this feeling before, this intense anxiety, but never with this ominous gravity.

The dull hammering of cannons could be heard, each one of their explosions sending a shiver up my spine. I won't lie, I'm really fucking scared. But there's no time for that, not when thousands of lives are counting on me and an unspeakable number of others to do our jobs to a T.

I swallowed down my fear as the first helicopter came in low for a landing.

* * *

 **Casualty estimates (Active belligerents):**

 **COALITION** **~ 600 Military, 18,000 Civilian**

 **OPFOR~ 60 Military, 0 Civilian**

 **Tactical situation:**

 **-DPRK launches Korea unification campaign to the sound of missiles being launched and the pounding of artillery**

 **-ROK engages in preemptive attacks against KFA targets south of Kaesong, aiming to win time for evacuation**

 **-US Pacific Command** **acknowledges state of war, diverts assets to region and deploys air power**

 **-Japan commits to coalition, and begins intercepting CRBMs**

 **-China condemns US/ROK** **aggression**

 **-UN emergency session demanded**

 **-Neptune whines about pudding, sparking outrage among Planeptune-based fan groups**


End file.
